


Only in Cleveland

by EntreNous



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Cleveland, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pining, Post-Chosen, Roommates, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Watchers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-15
Updated: 2005-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-27 02:56:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EntreNous/pseuds/EntreNous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xander chooses to come to Cleveland after his time in Africa.  For the life of him, Andrew can't figure out why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for a fest (Slashfest), but posted independently, as I was late late late in finishing. grammar_glamour generously betaed this fic.

“Xander, you’re back,” Andrew said jubilantly as he opened the door and flung his arms around his guest.

“Yeah, this is me, back,” Xander said wearily. “Different state, different hellmouth . . . different everything. But back.” After an initial hesitance he hugged Andrew in return. When Andrew pulled away, Xander dropped a duffel bag on the floor and took a quick look around the apartment.

“How do you feel?” Andrew asked. “Are you jet-lagged? What movie did they show? The last time I was coming back from London, it was some awful family fun movie with Robin Williams, even though I swear the in flight magazine said it was going to be _Hellboy_. I filed a complaint with the Aviation Board, but . . . Did you drink lots of water on the flight? And keep your skin moistened? I always bring my own spritzer bottle now when I travel, to combat dehydration.”

Xander rubbed at his face and then automatically adjusted the strap of his eye-patch. “Movie -- yeah, I was zonked out, so I don’t remember. Spritzer, check. I’ll look into that next time. Right after I find out what a spritzer is. For now, I’m tired. Exhausted. Beat. And did I mention tired?”

“Oh,” Andrew nodded. He smiled in an attempt to cover up any disappointment that might have passed over his face. “So you don’t want to, I don’t know, hang out or something tonight? I guess you’re probably too worn out from the trip, and the whole Africa thing. It’s just I wasn’t sure how long you’d be in town . . .”

Xander shook his head. “Hanging would be great, but yeah, I’m about to collapse here.”

“No problem,” Andrew said quickly. He leaned down to heft Xander’s duffel bag into his hands, and then let out a small grunt when he found it was far heavier than he’d expected.

“I’ll get it, no worries,” Xander said with a small smile. He took the duffel from Andrew easily. “You just lead on, Picard.”

* * *

So Xander was actually _living with_ Andrew now. Granted, he’d only been there for about thirty-six hours. But since the agent for the new apartment Andrew had tried to line up had had to leave town suddenly, and Xander didn’t have any other place in mind (when Andrew had asked him if he had anywhere else he had to be next he had blinked rapidly), he was definitely staying at Andrew’s place for the time being. In Andrew’s mind, it totally counted as cohabitation.

Of course, it wasn’t much like living with someone when that someone slept for fourteen hours in a row as soon as he’d dropped onto the fold-out couch in the study/guest-bedroom. For most of that time, Andrew had stepped gingerly around the apartment, trying to decide if he should spend his time baking casseroles for when Xander woke up, or planning a packed itinerary showing Xander more of Cleveland. He ended up planning for both scenarios, baking some brownies, and throwing together some soup while he printed out information for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and the Science Center.

Occasionally he would peek into Xander’s room -- okay, the study, but he could call it Xander’s room in his head as long as Xander was in fact in it -- and watch for a few moments as Xander lay still on the bed, breathing evenly, very nearly in the same position in which he’d crashed. He was still wearing faded worn jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt that was the best blue color that Andrew had ever seen someone wear. Then, almost as though he sensed someone else in the room, Xander would shift, or murmur something, and Andrew would pull himself away quickly, feeling vaguely guilty. But more than that, he kept getting a little fluttery feeling in his stomach whenever he checked in on Xander, like something really good was about to happen.

He sliced the brownies and froze some of the large batch of soup while he waited to see if Xander would wake up. In a way, it was good to have some time to adjust. He’d been pretty surprised when he heard that Xander was going to head to the base in Cleveland after returning from his time in Africa. Seemed like it would have made more sense for Xander to set up camp wherever Buffy was, or to move to where Willow was still stationed in Rio. But Xander’s letters, and Giles’ communiqués, had been clear enough. Xander wanted to come to Cleveland.

Andrew got part of why Xander had chosen Cleveland, because it was part of the reason he’d chosen it himself. It was cool to work for the Council but not in a place where Giles could head over and check things out constantly. And it was great to use what he’d learned from Buffy and Willow without having them over his shoulder to sigh dramatically if he got something a little bit wrong. Plus it seemed like Andrew had only known about the Hellmouth in Sunnydale in a bad way. Now here was his chance to help train and wrangle the group of Slayers that had been stationed in Ohio to keep watch over an as yet unstudied _Boca del Inferno_.

He said it out loud while he put the lid back on the soup just because he liked the sound of it. “ _Boca del Infeeerrrrnoooo_.”

But the rest of the reason why Xander had come here, Andrew wasn’t that sure about. Maybe Xander had picked it because Andrew was here. Not that Andrew thought he was a huge draw, but he and Xander had become friendlier since they’d been writing letters and emailing regularly. He’d always liked Xander, really liked him, and the idea that Xander sort of thought he was okay enough to share a city with was cool. If Xander was in Cleveland, he’d have someone to go to sci-fi movies with, someone who _really_ got why the “last” three Star Wars were better than the newer ones, and someone who would hear him out about why Timothy Dalton was the best Bond ever and not make fun of him. Much.

Sharing a city was one thing, though, and sharing an apartment was another. He was sure Xander would want his own place. Still, even though Xander would be moving out soon enough, it was neat that he was up for using Andrew’s apartment as a place to crash until his living situation got settled.

* * *

It turned out that Xander could sleep for a _really_ long time. Well, he’d woken up before, but stumbling into the bathroom, and then lurching into the kitchen and downing four glasses of mango-peach-orange juice before going straight back to bed didn’t seem to Andrew like it was really awake behavior. He’d waved at Andrew blearily, muttered something about the particular juice combination Andrew had in the fridge, nodded in an absent way to Andrew’s questions about what he’d like to do today, and then had wandered back to his bedroom with Andrew trailing behind him.

“At least take off your clothes before you lay back down,” Andrew told him when Xander seemed in danger of swaying himself right onto the mattress. He flushed as soon as he said it, worried that it would come off the wrong way, but to his surprise Xander just nodded. Then it turned into a _much_ bigger surprise when Xander barely paused before he shrugged and stripped down in front of him, slipping off his jeans then lifting and pulling off his t-shirt in one fluid move. Once he was down to his boxers, he actually made it under the covers this time before his breathing slowed. It had been close when he’d begun to move almost in slo-mo as he cat-crawled up towards the pillows.

All of that had definitely been surprising. And kind of exciting. Especially the cat-crawl part.

Andrew tried not to think about the fact that Xander probably wouldn’t be that comfortable changing in front of him in his more awake mode. He also tried not to give in to the temptation to wonder if maybe all of Xander’s sleeping was showing just how comfortable he was with Andrew, living in his place with him. Because while this was a kind of roommate situation, it wasn’t going to be a permanent thing. He had to keep telling himself that.

The funny part was that Andrew really liked living alone. Or he did until now. When he was younger, he’d had to share a room with his brother, and even when Tucker went to college he still had to deal with his parents all of the time. They’d never been cool like the other parents he’d heard about, like the Rosenbergs who he’d heard had totally ignored their daughter and let her stay out all night and do spells and date a werewolf, or the Harrises who seemed like they rarely remembered Xander was around and always had plenty of beer in the house. No, they’d always been asking questions, and coming into his room without knocking, and insisting he be home in time for dinner.

Then he’d gone from living in the trio of himself and his parents to the way better trio of Warren and Jonathan. Maybe they’d had to hide out in the basement most of the time, but that’s what living underground had meant, right? Funny, but he missed the basement when he’d done time at the Big House. Sure, the Sunnydale detention cell had been more like Mayberry than anything else, and he and Jonathan had only been there for half a night. But if they’d gotten transferred to another kind of lock up, they so would have turned out like Beecher and Keller with shivs and bad-ass attitudes. Of course nothing ever had happened between them. They’d shared a room and a bed in Mexico, but they’d both been so antsy the entire time about the Slayer descending on their hideout and blowing their cover that it wasn’t even an issue. Besides, Jonathan didn’t really seem like he was into that kind of thing. He was a good friend though. Until Andrew had . . .

Then of course there was his return Sunnydale, where he’d been quickly promoted from hostage to guestage at Revello Drive’s Slayer Central because of his sharp strategic skills and baking talents. That was cool, with all the future slayers to talk about destiny, and Dawn to play six degrees of separation from Kevin Bacon with, and Xander there -- fixing things and knowing things and talking to Andrew, like he understood him. Still, going from one roommate and a life on the lam to dozens of roommates crammed together in the nerve center of mankind’s hope for survival had been way too crowded.

But now he owned a flat in London and rented his roomy sunny apartment in Cleveland. Not one but two places where he could be all by himself and do whatever he pleased. Of course for him that translated into keeping things fairly neat without worrying about anyone messing them up, having one closet devoted to comics and fan paraphernalia without anyone saying it was dorky, and relaxing at home without anyone telling him he was lame when he didn’t have plans on a Friday night.

But with Xander here, even in his mostly-asleep state, it made Andrew feel a little loneliness in anticipation of when he’d have the place back to himself once again.


	2. Chapter 2

Finally Xander got up for real. After a quick conversation during which Xander stretched and Andrew tried not to stare at his boxer-clad body, he ended up showering for almost forty minutes while Andrew heated up some of the soup and tried his best not to picture Xander soaping himself up one room over. 

“How do you feel?” Andrew asked when Xander reappeared in the entrance to the living room, clad in a fresh pair of jeans and a short-sleeved burgundy t-shirt that totally showed off his muscles. Andrew pressed his lips together in a smile, trying not to appear too eager to pelt Xander with questions and stories. It had been so long since they’d seen one another, and those times had always been with bunches of other people around them. Having Xander, just Xander, here in his apartment was just exciting and unnerving enough that he had to hold himself back from blurting things out. 

“Human,” Xander said hoarsely. He grinned at the scratchy sound of his voice and cleared his throat. “Or nearly human again. Sorry I’ve been out for . . . you know, I’ve got no idea how long I’ve been asleep, but I’m guessing it went well past the nap stage.”

Andrew’s eyes followed Xander’s fingers as they absently scratched at his chest and then raked through his damp hair. “Oh, no. Don’t worry about it. You must have needed it.”

“Absolutely,” Xander said with a yawn. “And now I need to wake up and get back on some kind of schedule. Got any coffee?”

“I have coffee,” Andrew answered with enthusiasm as he rose from his chair. He grabbed Xander’s arm and guided him into the kitchen. “I have coffee, I have tea, I have herbal tea, I have soda, I have juice, and I have milk. There are all kinds of choices.”

Xander blinked when Andrew extended his arm to indicate the stocked refrigerator and full shelves.

“What?” Andrew asked uncertainly. 

“Nothing. Just . . . that’s the widest selection of herbal teas that I’ve ever seen in the possession of someone whose name isn’t Willow.”

“Oh, and soup. I made some soup. Do you like soup? You don’t have to eat it or anything. We could order Chinese, or I could pick up Thai, or if you miss the food in Africa I think there’s an Ethiopian place downtown--”

“Soup is great,” Xander nodded. “Coffee -- the real stuff -- that’d be great too. Do you want me to help you out?”

“No, no, go ahead and sit down, and I’ll get it for you,” Andrew said. 

He warmed up enough for four bowls of soup, brewed a full pot of coffee, and had just set out a plate of sliced French bread on the table in front of Xander when the phone rang. “Go ahead and start,” he said. He began to sprint for the phone, then slowed down deliberately when he remembered he wasn’t alone, but then sprinted again when it occurred to him that this could be an important call from HQ.

Ten minutes later he returned to the kitchen to find that Xander had already finished one bowl of soup and had worked his way through most of the supply of bread. “Sorry,” Xander offered. “I feel like I haven’t eaten in days.”

“Probably because you haven’t,” Andrew said. He sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to take off for a little while. There’s some question about a demon that two of the slayers stationed here ran into, and I really need to head into work to check in with the research team.”

“No problemo,” Xander said. “I probably won’t progress towards having actual thoughts and sentences to tell them to you until, oh, at least tomorrow morning.” He gave Andrew a wave and pushed his chair back, heading to the stove to ladle out more soup. 

“Great, okay.” Andrew gathered a sheaf of papers from the kitchen work-station and paused. “You’ll be okay here by yourself? Oh, and I made brownies. They’re in the limited edition Doctor Who Tardis Cookie Jar on the counter. There’s cable, and there are DVDs, and CDs, and mp3s. I just downloaded a bunch of great Wham! songs. Or you could go online.” 

“Or I could go back to bed and sleep more.” Xander grinned. “I’ll be fine. And hey, next time you get a call, I can help you check out whatever baddie is stirring up trouble if you want a hand. My demon fighting muscles probably need exercising anyway.”

Andrew clutched his papers to his chest and nodded vigorously as he backed out of the kitchen, stumbling slightly. “Okay. That would be great. Have fun. Get rest. And I’ll see you soon!”

* * *

Except that Andrew didn’t see Xander soon. 

The demon question had turned into a full-fledged panicky prophecy-fulfilling infestation of demons, and Andrew had been in turbo research mode for three days in a row. He didn’t have any time to call Xander to see if he wanted to help, never mind stopping to think about whether Xander would want to get into something so intense right after traveling. Since he’d left him a spare key and some maps, he figured he shouldn’t worry too much about how Xander was spending his time when things were so urgent with the prophecy looming over them. 

He did see Xander in passing, as he fleetingly appeared in the kitchen when Andrew brewed yet another pot of coffee, always taking his full mug back to his bedroom and shutting the door behind him. If Andrew came home for a quick nap or to grab a particular volume on amulets, he occasionally walked by as Xander was making calls before Xander smiled at him and closed his door to give himself some privacy. 

Xander seemed happy enough to see him for a few minutes here and there. But he didn’t complain when Andrew headed out to work at all hours of the day and night, and whenever Andrew did return for a little while Xander often seemed to be on his way out. And all that door closing added up to a weird feeling whenever Andrew got home and tried not to care about whether Xander was there or not. 

Finally the demon problem was under control, and Andrew staggered back to the apartment fully intending to embark on his own sleeping marathon. 

He should have expected that when it was his turn to go into hibernation Xander would find things to do. Still, he was surprised and a little uncertain when a few days later he found out that Xander had helped to coordinate a sweep of the three slayers on duty the previous night. One of the other watchers assured Andrew that Xander had done a great job. Andrew didn’t doubt it, especially not when Beverly, the fifteen year old slayer who always seemed irritated at and impatient with Andrew, emailed asking if Xander was going to be pulling Watcher duty, and whether she could switch to his roster. 

Andrew still had no idea how long Xander planned to stay in Cleveland, so he couldn’t answer that even if he wanted. But after those days of catching up on paperwork and sleep, he realized that Xander hadn’t been home -- well, hadn’t been back to Andrew’s apartment -- for the entire day and much of the next night. Maybe that was a good sign, if Xander would like to stick around and become a part of the Cleveland operations. But he didn’t know for sure because Xander was never around to ask. 

After another night when Andrew had come home only to find Xander leaving, he thought more seriously about what it would be like with a new person on board. It would definitely be great for their branch of the Council if Xander stuck around. They had a group of five watchers here, including Andrew, and twenty slayers. Everyone could breathe easier if they had a sixth person as part of the Watcher team. Dividing up the girls would let everyone get more attention, and make filing reports and training that much easier. Of course it wasn’t like Giles or anyone else at HQ demanded really thorough reports, and more than once Giles had hinted that they really didn’t need to read about every single night on patrol. But Andrew liked writing them. He felt he added a certain dramatic flair to the accounts of long lonely nights spent in cemeteries, straining for the sound of vampires emerging fresh from their graves. Or, as Beverly said “the totally boring nights when we could be home watching _American Idol_.” 

Plus after Xander had worked with the other Council members in town for a few days, Andrew quickly learned that it wasn’t just him who hoped that Xander stuck around. A couple of the other girls had asked about working with Xander, and sure, that was slightly jealousy-causing. But it would make the transition much easier if Xander did stay on, having slayers that had already formed ties with him. And it wasn’t like Andrew wasn’t used to everyone else liking someone as cool as Xander better than him. 

So great for the Council, no question. But it wouldn’t do Andrew much good in the way of having another friend around. Not if Xander was so busy that he never did end up having time to hang out or to tell Andrew more stories about his time in Africa, or to listen to Andrew’s increasing worries that maybe he wasn’t so good at this Watcher thing after all.


	3. Chapter 3

Then after two weeks of speaking and seeing each other only in passing, one Friday evening soon after Andrew had gotten home Xander walked through the door a few moments later.

“Hi,” Andrew greeted him. He expected Xander to head for his room, but when he stopped near the entrance to the living room instead, Andrew waved him inside. “Um, sit down.” He shifted on the sofa to give Xander space, and muted the television that had been tuned in to a repeat of _Enterprise_.

“Hey,” Xander said as he paused just inside the room. “I thought you’d be out tonight.”

“Nope, I’m here,” Andrew said with an awkward laugh.

“Yeah.” Xander frowned and then almost reluctantly moved to sit beside Andrew. “That’s good. That you’re here.”

“Right,” Andrew replied miserably. When Xander took a breath, he steadied himself for bad news. Why else would Xander actually come in and sit close to him? He must have found an apartment of his own. Or maybe he was going to jet off to another Council base. Or maybe, and this was the one Andrew had been thinking about more often, maybe he was the one who had to break it to Andrew that Giles wanted Xander to replace him.

“Look, Andrew,” Xander started.

“Just say it fast and get it over with,” Andrew broke in.

Xander looked at him strangely. “Um. Okay. It’s just that I’ve been meaning to say . . . Well, to say sorry. That my couple of days’ visit has turned into a couple of weeks. I’ve let a few short-term apartments slide because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to stay in Cleveland. And now that it seems like I’ll stay for at least a little while longer, there’s nothing else available on a month-to-month basis.” He glanced at Andrew, then shifted his gaze to the soundless images on the television screen. “So I wanted to apologize. I hope it’s been okay having me wandering around your place.”

Andrew looked at him in surprise. It didn’t sound like Xander was headed anywhere at all, and as far as he could tell, he still had his job. “But it’s been fine. You’ve pretty much been gone for most of the time you’ve been in town, so I don’t see how you could have gotten in the way at all. And it’s okay that you don’t have a place lined up yet. I really have lots of room.”

“Well, it’s been good to get back in the swing of things, throw myself into the projects going on. I figured you guys are understaffed here, so it’s the least I can do to pitch in.” Xander paused. “Plus I’ve been trying to stay out of your hair, and it keeps me busy.”

“But you don’t have to stay out of my hair,” Andrew said quickly. “You’re not even _in_ my hair, but . . . I mean, you don’t have to worry about whether I have hair or not that you could be into or stay out of.”

Xander raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

“Xander, I thought we’d get a chance to catch up while you were here,” Andrew continued in a nervous voice. “Except it seems like you’ve hardly been here at all. I was kind of starting to think that maybe you’ve been avoiding me.”

After a moment of staring at him, Xander shook his head and grinned. “You mean that I’ve been doing my damnedest to keep out of your way, and that’s been a wrong thing? Look, Andrew, I just wanted to give you your space. I know you didn’t sign up for sharing your apartment when you told Giles I could crash here. I figured the least I could do was to make things easier by making myself scarce as much as possible.”

“But you’re my guest,” Andrew said defensively. “I wanted to hang out with you and show you around, and go on that The Real Drew Carey Show bus tour. But it seems like I heard more from you when you were three continents over than since you’ve been in the same city, never mind the same apartment. Besides, I thought maybe you’d want to, um . . . I thought we were. You know. Friends.”

The gaze Xander gave him was curious, and Andrew forced himself to not look away. As moments passed, Xander’s gaze focused on him more intently, and the atmosphere surrounding them seemed to become more charged. Just as Andrew felt himself beginning to lean forward, Xander sprang up from the couch.

“Of course we are -- we’re friends. Why wouldn’t we be? We like a lot of the same things, and you’re a great -- a great guy, and I just . . .” He sighed and started over. “You know, I’m not so good at getting a vibe on things even when it seems totally obvious to other people. So I’m sorry it’s been weird. Sorry _I’ve_ been weird. I’ve been moving around so much lately, and feeling bad that people have to put up with me when I’m around. I can’t tell you how many places I stayed in Africa, with council affiliates, with people renting rooms, with anyone who would have me, because I lost count after about a hundred. I didn’t want to be that jerky imposer kind of guy with you.”

Andrew waved his hand lamely. “But this isn’t some random place. It’s . . . our place. I mean, for now. As long as you want to stay.”

Xander paced a few steps away and then turned to walk back. “Well, how about this? I stop constantly trying to leave the apartment to you, and then you stop . . .” He halted. “Wait, you haven’t been doing anything wrong, have you? Damn. I thought we could get all negotiation-y here.”

“I could pretend that I’ve been doing something wrong,” Andrew offered.

Xander laughed. “As oddly appealing as that sounds, I think maybe we can just try hanging out more.”

“Cool,” Andrew answered, bobbing his head in agreement. “How about starting tonight?”

* * *

They went out to rent DVDs for a movie night. But once they were out looking, Andrew realized that almost every film Xander suggested was something he already owned. And if they ran out of options there, they could always fall back on Andrew’s growing collection of Red Dwarf DVDs.

“Can’t believe we spent all that time at the stores when we had everything we wanted right here,” Xander grumbled good-naturedly as they got settled on the couch.

“There’s a lesson there,” Andrew said.

“What would that be?” Xander asked through a mouthful of popcorn.

“I don’t know,” Andrew said with a shrug.

“So what’ll we start with?”

“I was thinking _Mister Vampire_ ,” Andrew suggested.

Xander stared at him blankly. “Don’t you think we’ve had enough of vampires for a while now?”

“But these ones hop,” Andrew explained. “Hopping vampires, you can’t tell me you’ve seen many of those.” He turned over the DVD case in his hands. “They’re really more zombies, anyway. And I’ve never seen one of those. You?”

“Not since high school,” Xander said. “Let it roll.” He passed Andrew a beer and they started the film.


	4. Chapter 4

“Man, I forgot how funny that movie was.”

Andrew grinned. They were sprawled out on the couch in the dim light of the living room, their knees just brushing each other’s as they passed the dregs of the popcorn between them. “Guess you don’t get that many kung fu comedies in Africa.”

“Not nearly enough,” Xander agreed.

Andrew let out a deep breath. This was what he’d had in mind all along when he found out Xander would be coming to stay with him. Chilling out, just the two of them, watching classic cinema. He tried not to wriggle too obviously, but he felt better tonight than he had in a long time, and it wasn’t so easy to hide.

“What should we watch next?” he asked, springing up from the couch to thumb through the cases on the DVD holder.

Xander set aside the bowl of popcorn and took a thoughtful swallow of his beer. “I say we make the genre transition from kung fu to sci-fi.”

“Well chosen. How about _Planet of the Vampires_? The actors all wear these really cool mod-style PVC suits.” Andrew gestured on his own body to indicate the tight-fit while he took out the disc.

“ _Terrore nello spazio_ ,” Xander proclaimed in a terrible Italian accent, reading off the case that Andrew had handed him. “Yeah, I’ve seen this -- it’s a good flick in the _Alien_ -y, we’re-totally-screwed-because-we-came-to-this-godforsaken-planet genre. Also in its favor, it keeps with the current evening’s theme of vampire movies that aren’t so much about actual vampires.”

Andrew nodded in agreement as he set up the disc, his back turned to Xander. “This’ll be great. I haven’t had anyone to watch this kind of stuff with in -- well, not for a while. And now that I know I’m not getting fired because you’re staying, and you’re not moving out because you’re upset with me, it’ll be even better.”

He turned back towards the couch as the film started playing, but stopped in his tracks when he saw Xander looking at him with his jaw hanging open. “Um --”

“I _am_ that jerky kind of guy,” Xander said loudly. “You thought you were going to get fired because I was here?”

Andrew twisted his hands. “Well, no. I mean, not like I thought it would be your fault. Sort of like when Neo shows up, and the other rebels know they’re not The Chosen One? Just that everyone seems to get along with you so well. And I don’t know if I’m doing a good job. Then I kind of wondered when you came home and wanted to talk to me tonight --”

“Wait, you thought I wanted to leave because I was upset with you?” Xander asked incredulously.

“No!” Andrew took a step toward the couch and then cleared his throat. “I mean, yes, maybe. But no, not now, after we talked. I get it, how you were staying in huts and stuff, and it made you into a lone wolf kind of guy, and I just want us to hang out more. Because I _don’t_ think you’re going to try to get me fired, and I _know_ you’re not upset with me, and now all I want is for you to move in with me.” He slapped his hand over his mouth as he heard the last words he’d said.

Xander rubbed at the bridge of his nose, a gesture Andrew had only ever seen Giles use. “Andrew, listen . . .”

“It’s okay,” Andrew said in a rush. “You don’t have to. I didn’t think I was going to say all that. I didn’t even mean it like it might have sounded like I meant it, if you know what I mean. But we’ve both been working so much, and I haven’t talked to anyone about this, and it’s been building up and up, and --”

“Stop for a second and let me talk, all right?” Xander asked sharply. He took a deep breath. “Come on, sit down with me.”

Andrew perched next to him on the couch. Both of them stared straight ahead. On the screen, the movie continued to play.

“I wasn’t being totally honest with you before, when I was saying how I wanted to stay out of your hair,” Xander began slowly.

“Okay,” Andrew whispered. “Maybe . . . you more wanted to do things on your own. Because it turns out you really don’t like me so much.”

“No,” Xander said distinctly. He shifted to face Andrew. “If anything -- with the letters we wrote while I was in Africa, with the little time we’ve seen each other here, with tonight, talking to you, being with you -- if anything, I like you _too_ much.”

Andrew shook his head. “Xander, that doesn’t make any kind of sense. What do you mean, you like me too much? No one’s ever liked me _too_ much. People have liked me not enough, like in high school, or not at all, like when I was a hostage. But now you’re saying that as though liking me is a bad thing, and that’s silly when I want you to like me, and I want--”

While Andrew had been speaking, Xander’s expression had gone from resolute, to confused, to something unidentifiable but really nice looking. That last warm look would have made Andrew stop talking anyway, but Xander tugging him forward and bringing their mouths together took care of that for him.

Even in the mess and confusion of the conversation they’d been having, it felt like it was supposed to happen. Being caught mid-sentence turned out not to be weird, because with Andrew’s mouth already partly open Xander’s tongue could dart then sweep inside easily, and that felt right too. When Andrew sighed into the kiss that was turning into a series of kisses, Xander drew him closer, murmuring the same way he had weeks ago after he’d flown in from Africa and slept for fourteen hours straight in Andrew’s guest room.

Still, somewhere in the back of Andrew’s mind there was a little buzz of disconnect. When he tried to splice the two scenes in his head, the absent-Xander of the last several weeks with this very present-Xander who was warm and tasted like butter and salt and hops, this Xander who was kissing him as though they’d found each other to the accompaniment of a swell of music and running on a beach, it didn’t add up.

He clutched Xander’s t-shirt tightly in his fists, and Xander pressed forward in response. Okay, so this was real. The relief that swept through Andrew drained the tension out of his shoulders. He tilted his head further, and Xander took advantage of the easier access, sliding their lips together, biting and kissing him until Andrew cried out with a muffled sound of pleasure.

“That’s what I was saying,” Xander said as he pulled back slightly. His hand cupped around Andrew’s cheek, and he rested his forehead against Andrew’s. “That’s how I like you too much.”

“That’s okay,” Andrew whispered. “I like you too much that way too.”


	5. Chapter 5

Xander laughed, and then they were kissing again, moving apart slightly only so Xander could curl his fingers under the hem of Andrew’s t-shirt to pull it up and off. The slip and slide of their mouths sounded softly around them until Xander spread his hands under Andrew’s arms and thumbed over his nipples. Andrew took a sharp breath, kissing harder as Xander murmured appreciatively, brushing then rubbing against the nipples tightening under his touch.

“Oh,” Andrew breathed, momentarily thrown off balance by the shifting of their bodies. Then all at once he was as unbalanced as he could get when Xander pulled him into his lap, fingers massaging at his waist and hip bones before moving up again to rub over his nipples. Without thinking Andrew slid his right leg over Xander’s leg to steady himself, and they both shivered when it brought their bodies flush against each other.

But then not so close could be good too, especially when Xander leaned him away, supporting his weight with a one hand splayed at the small of his back and the other behind Andrew’s neck. The shift let him move his mouth down to bite at Andrew’s jaw, kiss his Adam’s apple, and suck at his collarbone. Andrew gripped Xander’s broad shoulders, trustingly leaning back further as Xander kissed his way down his chest.

It was fantastic and real all at the same time. Somehow Andrew could lose himself in the melding of their bodies together, feeling his weight and movements shifting in point and counterpoint to Xander’s, as though there were a silent exchange of signals between them. But then surges of surprised awareness were thrumming through his system. Xander was holding him, Xander was kissing him, licking past the smattering of blond hairs on his chest, flicking his tongue over his nipples, and Andrew couldn’t stop himself from crying out his name.

“Like that?” Xander asked in a low voice just before closing his mouth over one nipple and sucking.

“Yeah,” Andrew replied in a shaky voice. “God, yeah,” he added as Xander tilted his hips up, thrusting against him as the hand on the small of his back moved down to grip his ass.

“Let me,” Xander whispered, and even though it wasn’t clear to Andrew exactly what Xander wanted him to let him do, he nodded helplessly. Xander’s strong hands pulling him back up, bringing their bodies back into close contact, and then shifting them down seemed to be the start of it. Andrew’s breathing quickened as Xander lowered them both along the length of the couch. He ran his hands over Xander’s back, then under his t-shirt, as Xander settled over him and mouthed along Andrew’s throat.

“Can you maybe take off your shirt?” Andrew asked him in a shaky voice.

“What? Oh, right.” Xander moved back, kneeling in between the vee of Andrew’s legs. After adjusting the strap of his eye-patch unselfconsciously, he crossed his arms to pull his shirt over his head, tousling his hair with the friction of the fabric.

“Xander, this is . . .” Andrew let the sentence trail off, instead reaching to skim his hands gingerly up and down Xander’s taut torso.

“Nice,” Xander finished for him in a hoarse voice. “Really nice.” He sat on his heels as Andrew’s fingers traced around his belly button and then wound down the trail of dark hair disappearing into his jeans.

“Um,” Andrew said faintly. “Can I . . . ?”

His gaze flicked up to meet Xander’s, and Xander silently led Andrew’s fingers to the top button of his jeans. When Andrew had eased the first button undone he dipped his fingers in to slide along the path of the waistband, shivering from the feel of smooth skin, coarse hair, and heat.

Xander let his knees splay out as he took a deep breath, obviously trying to hold back from pushing his groin harder into Andrew’s careful touch. Another fastening undone, then a third, and Andrew bit his lower lip as he slipped his hand inside and drew his fingertips along Xander’s hard length.

Then Xander was stretched out on top of him, and somehow both of their jeans were pushed down around their knees. They were rocking together, slowly at first then faster as they settled into a rhythm, a push and pull that was way better than anything Andrew could have imagined. The feel of Xander’s body against his, the sounds around them from skin sliding together and their breathing coming quicker, both of them gripping tighter and thrusting harder -- all of it was just what he’d wanted and more than he’d ever expected. When Xander whispered his name, he let his head fall back with a cry and came hard.

* * *

“Xander?”

“Yeah?”

Afterwards they had lain together, tangled and panting. It had taken Andrew a minute or two to figure out how to begin suggesting that Xander could come back to his bed with him instead of heading to the foldout couch. But Xander had figured out what he was saying half way through and had simply taken his hand and led him there.

And now they were actually under the covers together, Andrew tracing the contours of Xander’s chest as he rested his cheek against it, Xander combing his fingers through Andrew’s hair.

“You remember what you said to me, that time that Willow went all Black Magic Woman on us, and Dawn and you were trying to protect Jonathan and me while we were trying to stay one step ahead of her fiery wrath?”

Xander yawned. “When you tried to escape? I said to put down the sword you were holding to my throat.”

Andrew laughed nervously. “No, um, before that. At the magic shop. And I called Willow Darth Rosenberg, and you said . . .”

Xander shifted slightly to look at him, and made a motion with his fingers like he was saying _keep it coming_.

“And you asked, in this really sarcastic voice, if I’d ever had any tiny bit of sex?”

“Oh.” Xander slipped one hand behind his neck and settled fully against the mattress again. “Not really, but yeah, that seems like it could have been a thing.” He went back to stroking Andrew’s hair.

“Well, the thing of it is, I kind of . . . haven’t,” Andrew continued in a shaky voice.

Xander nodded. “Right.” He said nothing for a moment, and then skimmed a hand up and down Andrew’s arm. “Well . . . you have now, right? So there’s no problem.”

“Did it show that bad?” Andrew asked anxiously.

“What? Nope. I mean, to tell you the truth, that was the last thing on my mind when we were messing around on the couch. I was more thinking about . . . well, your skin.”

“My skin?”

“And lips,” Xander said.

“What about my lips?”

“Well, that they’re good to kiss. And your skin, that I wanted to bite it. But mostly there were a lot of one or two word thoughts with a bunch of exclamation points involved.”

“Are you sure I didn’t, like, horribly embarrass myself or something?” Andrew asked.

“I thought it was good,” Xander said with a grin. “And the exclamation points are always a sign of a great time.”

“Oh come on,” Andrew said with a blush. “You’re this sexually sophisticated lover of slayers and ex-demons, and you think that was good?”

Xander paused and then laughed. “Okay, never heard myself described in quite that way before. Hang on for a sec, let me just try that on for size. Xander Harris, sexually sophisticated--”

“Xander,” Andrew said warningly.

He laughed again, then tugged Andrew up so he was laying half on top of him. “You know, it’s really not so complicated with me. Sex good. Yes. Sex with you . . . ” his gaze swept over Andrew. “Good. Really good sex.”

Andrew laughed. “You sound like a caveman.”

Xander scratched down Andrew’s back lightly. “Like you don’t love it.”

“I’m so not telling you if I do or I don’t.” Andrew paused. “But I’ll probably be okay at the rest of it. You think so too, right? I mean, if you want there to be a rest of it. Or just more of it.”

“Everyone always gets better with practice,” Xander noted wisely. “But you know, maybe we should practice a lot. Just to make sure. And hey, I’m always willing to try things a second or even a third time in a row, just because I’m ambitious that way.”

Andrew swallowed hard. “That . . . sounds like a good plan.” He paused, and then grinned, feeling his stomach flutter when Xander grinned back. “Let’s start now.”

*~*~**The End**~*~*


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